


dream of you a little longer

by likebrightness



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn, post-ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8568334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likebrightness/pseuds/likebrightness
Summary: Maggie runs that kiss over in her mind.Too much, she does. For too long. She can’t stop thinking about that kiss.She knows she’s into Alex Danvers, obviously. Has known it since the woman walked into her crime scene. That’s not the question here.





	1. Chapter 1

_But I'm not what you need_  
_But only so much stronger_  
_But you are such a pleasant fiction to me_  
_So I guess that I'll dream of you a little longer  
_ \- Joe Purdy, "I'm Not What You Need"

 

 

Maggie runs that kiss over in her mind.

Too much, she does. For too long. She can’t stop thinking about that kiss.

She knows she’s into Alex Danvers, obviously. Has known it since the woman walked into her crime scene. That’s not the question here.

Maggie has done the impulsive kissing just because you want to. She’s done the rush into a relationship and be ready to u-haul after two dates. She’s done the stay up all night talking because this girl is so _amazing_ and you don’t want to fall asleep and be away from her company. And she could, she thinks, she could do that with Alex. She’s done it, a little, already, has stayed at a bar way too late just because she couldn’t stand the look on Alex’s face when she said she should go.

But it’s not what she wants anymore.

With her ex, she thought— she thought she was getting something more. She meant to be getting something more. Apparently that wasn’t clear. Maggie had tried to open up and be with someone for the long haul, and her ex had called her borderline sociopathic. So it turns out, she’s not great at relationships. And she doesn’t want to do that to Alex.

When Maggie was fourteen, she got a dog, a puppy. He was a big dumb mutt, probably had some lab in him. She named him Hooch. As a puppy, Hooch was _so_ enthusiastic. He thought everything was exciting and he wanted to explore the entire world, had boundless energy for it. One day he went flying through the woods on the edge of their property and came back with thirty porcupine quills in his face.

Alex is Hooch. Maggie doesn’t want to be the porcupine.

It doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about that kiss, though. She thinks about the kiss, thinks about how soft Alex was, how determined she was at first— catching her by her arm and yanking her back, and then how gentle, how sweet. She thinks about the way Alex’s excitement went down in degrees, as she realized what Maggie was saying. She thinks about the hurt on Alex’s face.

She thinks about the hurt on Alex’s face the most. Because as much as she wants to go back and play everything differently and never make Alex feel that way, that hurt would happen eventually. If Maggie had said yes, if Maggie had let being attracted to Alex be enough, that hurt would have just come later. It would have been worse. Maggie would have still been the porcupine. So she remembers the hurt on Alex’s face and reminds herself she made the right decision.

-

The next time she sees Alex is two days later, back in the bar. Alex is a few drinks in by the time Maggie gets there, and she isn’t distant, not exactly, but she’s not _genuine._ She smiles and beats Maggie at pool and is normal enough that Maggie can’t call her on, but it all feels fake.

Porcupine quills are hard to get out, is the thing. They’re barbed, actually, you can’t just pull them right out, because they’ll pull whatever they’re stuck in with them. That’s what talking to Alex feels like. It feels like a careful extraction, like any wrong move could make it worse.

Maggie asks if she’s okay, and Alex laughs. She laughs and says, “Really, Sawyer, I’m _fine_ ,” and Maggie doesn’t believe her for a second.

-

The next week, Alex flashes a badge and ducks under the crime scene tape. She gives Maggie this tight-lipped grimace that Maggie thinks is supposed to be a smile. “What have we got?”

Maggie doesn’t know if this is the real Alex Danvers or if she got to see the real Alex Danvers, and by turning her down, she sent her into hiding. Her Alex— well, not her Alex, but the Alex she was getting to know, before everything blew up and they stopped hanging out. That Alex was sweet and easily worried, tough, yes, but there was a softness to her. This Alex isn’t just tough, she’s _hard_ , she’s uncompromising. This Alex doesn’t smile.

Supergirl doesn’t either, when she shows up. Supergirl _glares,_  actually.

“Is the NCPD’s involvement really necessary on this case?” Supergirl asks.

Maggie looks at Alex, like _are you fucking seeing this?_ , but Alex is pretending not to notice. Jesus. Maggie knew Supergirl and Alex were close, somehow, but really?

Supergirl keeps standing between them. Maggie is trying to _work_ , and Supergirl won't let her within five feet of Alex.

-

It gets better. Not much, but it does.

Alex stops avoiding her, slowly. One step at a time. Supergirl still glares at her, but Maggie doesn’t mind so much. Alex deserves it, deserves someone who will watch her back, protect her. And sure, sometimes Maggie worries that she pushed Alex away right into the arms of an honest to God superhero, but even if she did, Alex deserves it. Alex deserves better than a borderline sociopath who just got out of a relationship. If Supergirl takes care of her, treats her right, Maggie’s happy for her.

She does wonder, sometimes, if Alex kisses Supergirl the way she kissed her.

-

One Saturday afternoon, Alex watches her play pool. Maggie doesn’t know why Alex is there, nursing a beer at one thirty on a Saturday, but she doesn’t ask. They still don’t talk much. Maggie doesn’t push it.

Alex drinks slowly, and watches her play pool, and Maggie doesn’t say anything.

Maggie plays against herself, wins as solids without much trouble. She puts another dollar in the machine and reracks the balls.

“You’re actually not bad at this,” Alex says.

Maggie laughs. “You sure know how to charm a girl, Danvers.”

As soon as she says it, she regrets it. It’s something she would’ve said before Alex kissed her, before Alex came out to her. It’s teasing banter, but Maggie has a feeling Alex isn’t going to think it’s funny. She doesn’t look hurt, though, when Maggie glances over at her; she looks contemplative.

“You didn’t play this well when we played.”

That’s because she was letting Alex win. She had just gotten dumped and Alex was a pretty girl who liked to smile at her, and so Maggie let her win.

She doesn’t tell Alex any of this— can’t, as nice as it would be to see Alex smile at her again. Instead she just shrugs, sends Alex a little grin.

“I’ve been practicing.”

Alex watches her play one more game, sink the balls faster than she did in the first. Then she slides off her stool.

“I should get going.”

Maggie tries to ignore the pit in her stomach as Alex walks away. “Hey, Danvers,” she says, and Alex stops, looks over her shoulder. “It was nice to see you.”

Alex smiles, just a little, and for the first time in weeks it doesn’t look forced. “You too, Sawyer.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

And so Alex dates.

First she cries. A lot. She cries and she drinks and she breaks a couple of glasses, and Kara cleans them up and brushes the hair away from Alex’s face and holds her until she falls asleep.

She cries and then she spends two weeks pretending she’s never heard the word gay in her life and that’s totally not a thing she is.

And then she dates.

It’s surprisingly not hard to meet women, once Alex starts looking. Actually, it’s, uh, pretty easy. Girls seem to like her? It makes her wonder how many smiles she overlooked— women who might have been flirting with her if only she had been paying attention.

Alex flirts with girls and gets girls’ numbers and even kisses a couple. Kara makes her tell her _everything_ , which is really fun, even if she feels like she’s in middle school. They talk about butterflies and that swooping feeling in your stomach. Alex doesn’t have the heart to tell her that no one has made her feel the way Maggie did, the way Maggie does, still, when she smiles at Alex.

Maggie still smiles at her. Alex is avoiding her, avoiding the alien bar, but Maggie still smiles at her. Kara stands between them, whenever she gets the chance, at crime scenes, and it’s both precious and annoying, and makes Alex wonder about some of the things she’s done in the name of protecting her sister. Maggie smiles at her anyway, over Supergirl’s shoulder, and Alex feels weightless, every time.

And every time she comes crashing back down to Earth, remembering the kiss and  _we’re at really different places_ and _but— as a friend_. Every time the pain feels fresh, the humiliation new. So she avoids the alien bar, and gets girls' numbers, and never tells Kara how she feels.

-

The line at her favorite coffee shop is long. Alex is probably going to be late for work, but she really wants her peppermint mocha. She’d like to double fist them every day they're in season, really.

She orders, and when she gets her wallet out to pay, the barista waves her off.

“Your drink is covered, actually,” he says.

“What? By who?”

He gestures to the woman who had been in front of her in line, who is now waiting for her own drink. She’s _cute_ , and Alex’s stomach swoops.

“Oh,” she says. “Okay. Thanks.”

The girl gives her this little smile when Alex heads over to wait for her drink, but then she looks away. Doesn’t say hi or anything. Alex’s pulse races. Shit. Was the girl even hitting on her by buying her drink, or was Alex supposed to pay for the next person’s, like one of those pay it forward things? Oh God, she read this whole thing wrong, and now she has to stand next to this woman who is silently judging her for not buying the next person’s coffee. Fuck, this is so embarrassing.

The woman probably thinks she’s horribly rude for not paying it forward, so Alex at least wants to say thank you, show some manners. She takes a step closer to her, gets her attention.

“Hey, um. Thanks.”

The girl smiles again, bigger this time, warm and friendly, and she _blushes_ , too. Alex doesn’t think she’s ever made anyone blush that easily.

“You’re welcome.”

Alex offers her hand. “I’m Alex.”

“Jen.”

Her handshake is firm, and she blushes again, can’t quite keep eye contact, and Alex doesn’t think she was supposed to be paying it forward anymore.

“I haven’t seen you in here before,” Alex says, and cringes. “God, that sounded like such a line. I just mean this is my favorite coffee shop.”

“It might be mine now, too,” Jen says, then her blush goes deep red. Alex is _enthralled_.

They call for Jen’s order. She gets it and goes to add sugar and cream. Alex digs a pen out of her bag. She grabs a napkin from a dispenser on a nearby table. She’s already going to be late for work.

When they call her name, she grabs her drink and goes to Jen’s side. Her adrenaline is pumping like she’s in a fight.

“Look, Jen, I really have to get to work, but maybe I could buy yours next time?”

She gives Jen the napkin with her number written on it, her heart in her throat. Jen _beams_ , and Alex lets out her breath.

“I’d really like that,” Jen says. “It was nice to meet you, Alex.”

Alex grins. “Call me.”

-

Jen calls, later that day. She bumbles over the phone, says she knows it’s probably desperate to call on the same day. Alex totally doesn’t mind. They go to dinner on Wednesday, get breakfast Saturday morning. Alex kisses her, slow and gentle, until she doesn’t taste like orange juice anymore.

Just like that, Alex stops noticing the attention other women give her.

Her stomach is filled with butterflies, all the time, her heart swooping. She tells Kara about Jen and can’t stop smiling.

She thinks about telling Maggie, saying _see, I am worth being with, someone thinks so at least._ Then she feels pathetic, and tries to go back to just thinking about Jen.

-

They both have holiday plans, but they make time for each other. They buy each other little Christmas presents, and Jen comes to the New Year’s Eve party at Kara’s, and Alex is happy. Kara stops standing between her and Maggie at crime scenes, and seeing Maggie smile doesn’t feel like a knife twisting in her gut. Alex even starts going back to the alien bar occasionally, tries to take Maggie up on the offer of being friends. It’s not the same, but it’s good enough. Besides, Alex has Jen now, has something better to do than beat Maggie at pool. Alex does watch her play sometimes, though, and she’s better than Alex remembers. For a half a second, Alex considers that maybe Maggie let her win. Then she gets a text from Jen and doesn’t think about it anymore.

-

By the time Valentine’s Day rolls around, Eliza starts _strongly_ hinting that she would like to meet “this young lady.” Eliza has been nothing but supportive, but Alex never mentions it to Jen.

“You sure you don’t want to do anything tonight?” Alex asks over the phone. It’s probably the seventh time she’s asked, but it’s Valentine’s Day. She wants to make sure it’s okay that she’s working a case instead of wooing her girlfriend.

“Restaurants will just be more expensive, flowers will be more expensive,” Jen says. “We can go out some other night.”

This is why Alex thinks she might love her. Well, there are a lot of reasons, but not needing to be wooed on Valentine’s Day is one of them. Alex has never liked Valentine’s Day. She thought she might more, now that she realized it wasn’t boys she wanted flowers from, but no. Jen’s right, everything is expensive, and nothing feels romantic if you’re only doing it because you’re expected to.

Alex makes a mental note to buy Jen some chocolate or something whenever they finish this case, because she’ll probably smile and roll her eyes and kiss her, and that sounds like a good way to end her day.

“Okay babe, gotta go. I’ll call when we finish up.”

Jen says bye and Alex hangs up. Maggie smiles at her.

“Your girl’s not mad you’re missing the best holiday of the year?”

“Gross, Sawyer,” Alex says. “If you think that, it’s no wonder you’re single.”

Maggie just laughs.

It’s good, working with Maggie. Maggie has been really great, putting all of the stupid shit Alex did behind them. They don’t hang out very often anymore, but they make a good team.

Maggie called her this morning, the third body— alien body— of the week. They still can’t figure out if their killer is human or alien. The victims are being strangled, but they don’t know exactly how. Alex feels like they’re getting close, feels like they’re about to hit their break.

She’s right— fifteen minutes after she hangs up with Jen, Maggie gets a tip from an informant and they’re off, interviews and chasing people down and by the end of the day, they’ve got their guy. Human, it turns out. It only takes an hour and a half tag teaming him to poke enough holes in his story that he confesses.

Maggie high fives her after they drop the guy off at processing. Alex is riding that high that comes from solving a case, grinning more than is probably appropriate in a police station.

“I’ll do the paperwork tomorrow,” Maggie says. “You hungry? I’ll buy.”

“You know, I could get Supergirl to pick stuff up from this amazing food truck in Chicago,” Alex says.

Maggie stares at her. “Uh. You don’t want to give the girl Valentine’s Day to herself?”

“Whatever,” Alex shrugs. “Usually we just watch bad movies and order take out.”

Maggie focuses on locking up her desk. Alex daydreams about which food truck she wants dinner from.

“You and Supergirl usually spend Valentine’s Day together?”

Shit.

Alex forgets, sometimes, that Maggie doesn’t know. Maggie has never met Kara as Kara. Alex is afraid the disguise wouldn’t hold up— Maggie’s too good a detective, and Kara is still too wary of Maggie, still sometimes snaps at her when they work a scene together. Alex doesn’t want to have to worry about her being that obvious as Kara.

But Maggie is her friend, and is easy to talk to, and she forgets she’s hiding things from her.

“Um,” Alex says, because how is she supposed to recover from this?

“You spend Valentine’s Day with a hot blonde and you only just realized you’re queer?” Maggie grins. “A little slow on the uptake, aren’t you, Danvers?”

“What? Hey, no.” This conversation has really gotten away from her. “Supergirl and I aren’t— it’s not like—”

“Whatever you say,” Maggie says. “But let’s leave Supergirl out of tonight. I just want a burger.”

Maggie is smirking at her, and Alex wants to argue more about how she is _not_ dating Supergirl, but Maggie is letting it go. Maggie is not making her explain why the hell she spends Valentine’s Day with a superhero. She was worried about how she was supposed to recover from her big mouth, and here Maggie is, just letting her off the hook.

So she says, “Yeah. A burger sounds good.”

-

They go to Moe’s, and Alex texts Jen to see if she wants anything. She’s probably already eaten, given that it’s almost nine. Indeed, she texts back that she’s fine, so Alex just gets one burger and splits a large order of fries with Maggie. She’s going to get a shake, but Maggie gets a beer, so she does, too.

“How’s things, Danvers?” Maggie says around a bite of hamburger. “You and Jen seem good.”

“Yeah,” Alex says, “except my mom wants to _meet her_.”

“So?”

Alex doesn’t know how to explain that the prospect seems terrifying. Eliza has been great, but the only person Alex has ever brought home was Drew, the boy she dated freshman year of college because she thought she was supposed to.

“I thought your mom was cool about everything,” Maggie says.

“She is, she is,” Alex says quickly, doesn’t want Maggie thinking less of Eliza in any way, even if they’ve never met.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It just seems— big.”

“Danvers, you don’t have to want to spend the rest of your life with the girl just to introduce her to your mom.” Maggie takes a swig of her beer. “Or you can, I mean, if you do, that’s cool, too.”

She doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life with Jen. Or she could, maybe, just— the rest of her life is a long time. She doesn’t want to think about it. She doesn’t even want to think about introducing Jen to Eliza.

“Can we talk about something else?” she says. “Like why you don’t have a hot date tonight?”

Maggie freezes, beer halfway to her mouth, then grins. “Who says I don’t? The night is young.”

Alex rolls her eyes. Maggie changes the subject again. Alex is again really grateful Maggie forgot about the whole kiss thing. Not that Alex doesn’t think about it sometimes, but it’s much better to have it behind them, to just get to hang out as friends.

On the way to Jen’s apartment, Alex stops and gets a box of Reese’s Pieces, Jen’s favorite.

-

Alex tries to buzz in to Jen’s building, but she doesn't respond. Just as Alex is unlocking her phone to text her, someone  comes out and she catches the door. When she knocks on Jen’s apartment door, it takes a minute before Jen opens it.

“Hey babe,” Alex says. She kisses Jen on the cheek and slips into and slips inside. “How was your night?”

“Fine,” Jen says, closing the door. “How was yours?”

“Well, we got a confession so it's pretty great,” Alex grins. “Also, hey, I got you something.”

She pulls the box of Reese’s Pieces from her jacket pocket, waves it in Jen’s direction.

“Thanks.”

That’s it. Jen doesn’t do anything else. She doesn’t smile and she doesn’t roll her eyes, and she certainly doesn’t kiss Alex. She doesn’t even take the box from her.

“I know you said you didn't want to do anything but I thought you’d like it.”

“Yeah,” Jen says, and finally takes the candy.

Alex tilts her head at her. “Is something wrong?”

Jen sighs and sets the box on the kitchen counter. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t even hang out with me on Valentine’s Day.”

The high of closing a case starts to leak out of Alex.

“Jen, we talked about this,” she says. “You said you didn’t want to do anything?”

“We didn’t have to do anything special,” Jen says. “But you literally would rather go to work and hang out with Maggie after than come spend Valentine’s Day night with me.”

“I’m here now.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Jen, come on,” Alex says.

Jen rolls her eyes and goes to sit on the couch. Alex follows her, stands with the coffee table between them. This is totally unfair. Alex asked, a lot, and Jen always said no. Plus, she’s there right now. They have the whole night together.

“Jen, I’m sorry,” Alex says. She is— she didn’t do anything wrong, but she’s sorry over the miscommunication and she’s sorry Jen’s upset. “What can I do to make it up to you? Reese’s obviously weren’t enough.”

She’s trying for some levity, but Jen glares at her.

“Can you go back in time and be a good girlfriend?” Jen snaps.

Alex sighs. “Babe.”

Jen scoffs.

“Babe,” Alex says again.

Jen shrugs, won’t make eye contact.

“Will you talk to me?”

Jen doesn’t. Alex keeps looking at her. Just stares at her for a good minute. What the hell is she supposed to do here? She throws her hands up.

“Fine. Call me later, okay?”

She’s halfway to the door when Jen says, “So you’re just going to leave?”

Alex flips around. “Jesus, Jen, what the hell else am I supposed to do?”

“No, you’re right, you should go. I’ll box up your stuff for you to get later.”

Alex gapes at her. “What?”

“You can get it tomorrow or something.” Jen’s still not looking at her.

“Babe,” Alex says. A bubble of fear rises from her stomach. “Come on, this was just some miscommunication, we can—”

“No, this was you putting your job ahead of me, again,” Jen says. “Honestly, who even likes their job that much?”

“I do,” Alex says, even though she knows it’s the wrong answer. Thoughts claw at the back of her throat: _you fucked up, you’re not good enough, you’re not worth it._ She swallows. “I love my job, Jen, and you know that. And I’m sorry I didn’t realize when you said you didn’t want to do anything on Valentine’s Day that you did. It’s not my job’s fault that I didn’t hang out. It’s that I didn’t know you even wanted to.”

“You’re saying you would have made time for me if I had asked?” Jen says.

“ _Of course_ , I would,” Alex says, even though she’s not sure she believes it. They had a case, and they solved it, and that definitely feels more important than spending one specific night with her girlfriend.

“Really?” Apparently Jen doesn’t believe it either. “You wouldn’t rather be spending time with _Maggie_ than me?”

Alex laughs, which isn’t the right response, because Jen’s eyebrows furrow, her mouth just a thin line.

“That’s ridiculous,” Alex says. “Maggie is my friend and colleague, and—”

“And you spent all of Valentine’s Day with her,” Jen says. “Went running when she called and stayed longer than you needed to for work.”

“We got dinner. It was nine o’clock and I was hungry. It’s not like we went on a date— we went to Moe’s.”

They argue for almost an hour. Jen won’t _listen_ to her, isn’t swayed by anything. The longer they fight, the more Alex feels like the walls are closing in on her. _Not good enough. Not worth it._ Her eyes burn and so does her throat, and she keeps trying to swallow the ball of pain down but it stays lodged there. She’s broken up with boys before. It’s never felt like this.

Eventually Jen just says _go_ and Alex goes. She doesn’t cry until she gets on her bike, and then she rides with her visor open, the wind stinging her eyes dry.

She doesn’t want to go home to her empty apartment, doesn’t want to be reminded of how she has no one to share her space with. So she goes to the alien bar. She won’t be alone there, but she’ll be left alone, which is what she wants. She can’t imagine being somewhere where she gets hit on right now.

But then Maggie is there. Alex thinks for a moment she’s on the hot date she joked about, but it’s just her in the booth, a mostly empty rocks glass in front of her. Maybe Alex doesn’t want to be left alone. Maybe she wants to bitch about this stupid breakup.

She throws herself into the booth across from Maggie.

“Girls are the _worst_.”

Maggie bursts out laughing. “Hear, hear,” she says and signals to M’gann, holds up two fingers.

Neither of them say anything until M’gann delivers their two drinks. Alex doesn’t know what it is, but if Maggie was drinking it, she figures it’ll be fine.

Maggie pushes her glass closer to her. “C’mon Danvers, drink up, and tell me why girls fucking suck.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie tries not to read into the fact that Alex only starts hanging out with her again after she and Jen break up.

  


Maggie tries not to read into the fact that Alex only starts hanging out with her again after she and Jen break up.

It’s probably just because Alex has more time now. It’s not like they flirt, anyway. Alex is _sad_ , mostly. Maggie wants to tell her all first break-ups are tough, but she hasn’t given Alex relationship advice since they kissed, and doesn’t want to bring that memory back up from the depths. She tries not to think about it herself. Tries not to think about what she said afterward. Tries not to ask herself: first relationships never work out, but what about second relationships? Was Jen the porcupine?

They work together, and hang out, and eventually Alex starts smiling more often, doesn’t cringe every time Maggie points out a woman looking at her. Maggie points them out, every time. Because women are definitely looking, and Alex should know. Alex is beautiful, and smart and funny and kind, and Maggie can’t tell her any of that. Alex still thinks she’s not good enough, especially after the break up, it’s been obvious, and Maggie can’t tell her otherwise. So Maggie points out when women look at her, and feels better when Alex smiles.

Maggie knows she’s being a complete idiot. She feels better when Alex smiles anyway.

-

Six months go by. Maggie solves a lot of cases, doesn’t solve a couple. Solves a lot with Alex. They hang out after work, and Maggie beats her at pool, once.

Alex dates some more, and Maggie is glad. Maggie wants what's best for Alex, even if that means sometimes Maggie’s the one who feels like she's got porcupine quills in her face. It's not even that bad, really. Maggie just feels sorry for herself, and hates herself for it. It's not like being Alex’s friend is a hardship or a consolation prize. She loves being friends with Alex. If occasionally her heart aches, she can shut up and fucking deal with it.

-

Alex invites her out to a bar they haven’t been to before, is already there when Maggie arrives.

“Catch up,” Alex says, tilting her glass in Maggie’s direction.

Maggie flags down a waitress and gets a beer. Alex orders another drink.

“How you doing, Danvers?”

Alex shrugs, doesn’t say anything. That hasn’t been her response in months. Maggie leans a little over the table.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Sawyer,” she says. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

Alex lets it lie, doesn't ask anything else. The waitress returns with their drinks. Alex crunches on some ice from her first drink before sliding the glass away from her and reaching for her second.

Maggie tries to catalogue what could be wrong. Alex isn't dating anyone that she knows of; it's probably not a break up. Or maybe it's the fact that she's not dating anyone that's upsetting her. They haven't had a case together in a while—it could be work.

Alex drinks in big swallows, chews on her ice cubes. Maggie only lets her for so long.

“C’mon, Danvers, spit it out, what’s up?”

“I think maybe I’m still doing something wrong,” the words are a little slurred, almost, and Maggie didn’t realize Alex had gotten this drunk. “With girls.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not the sex,” Alex says, and she’s not blushing even a little, and fuck, she must be hammered. “The sex is good. Great, even, sometimes. It’s just like— that spark? Or whatever? I don’t know, I still don’t have it so I can’t _explain_ it.”

“Danvers, you’ve had two drinks, how are you this drunk?”

Alex has a lot of smiles, but Maggie hasn’t seen this one before— it’s insouciant, mischievous, like she’s done something wrong and is proud of it.

“I might not have had any dinner tonight,” she says. “And also I may have ordered doubles.”

“Why?”

Alex rolls her eyes. “Because I wanted to get _drunk_ , Sawyer,” she says. “I like girls and I didn’t figure it out until I was twenty seven, and even now, I feel like I’m doing something wrong. I wanted to get drunk, okay?”

Maggie just looks at her. This girl.

“I've been gay for like, a year. Or like,” Alex waves her hands around, “forever, yeah, but out for almost a year. I've dated. Jen, obviously, and I even met Sandra’s _mom_ ; we were a real thing there.”

Alex met Sandra’s mom after two and a half weeks of dating, but Maggie doesn't point that out.

“But I still haven't— I don't—” Alex’s brow is furrowed, and she's got this little pout, and if this didn't seem so serious, Maggie would think it was adorable.

“Don't what, Danvers?”

Alex looks at her, hard and serious, and Maggie thinks she's going to tell her. Alex is tough. She doesn't open up much. Every time she does feels like a gift, and Maggie tries to be gentle with her, tries to be worth her trust. Maggie tries to be patient and soft so Alex knows it's okay. Most of the time it works.

Tonight, though, Alex shakes her head.

“Nah, Sawyer, don't worry about it,” she says.

Maggie rolls her eyes. “Danvers, I—”

“Two more please,” Alex says to the waitress, gesturing at the drinks in front of them.

Maggie’s isn't even half finished. “Just one,” Maggie clarifies.

“You're not gonna get drunk with me?”

“You look like you're trying to get messy, Danvers,” Maggie says. “I’m gonna make sure you get home safe.”

-

Alex does get messy.

“You know,” she says, wagging a finger in Maggie’s face, “you...you…”

“I what?”

Alex looks at her mouth when she talks.

“You’re gonna drive me home?” There’s this hopeful lilt to her voice, and Maggie refuses to think about it.

“Somebody’s gotta.”

“I’m glad it’s you.”

God, this girl.

“What I was saying earlier,” Alex says like Maggie should know what she’s talking about, like she hasn’t been talking all night, saying a lot of things. “I haven’t felt— since we— I thought figuring out I was gay meant I’d figure out— I feel like I’m still _missing something_.”

“Missing what, Alex?”

“Sparks.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Me neither,” Alex says, and buries her head in her hands.

-

“Gimme your keys,” Maggie says as they head for the door, Alex stumbling. “I’ve only got my bike. Your car will be easier.”

Alex tilts her head at her, smiling. “I’ve only got my bike, too.”

Right. That’ll be fine. Maggie tells herself it’ll be fine, having Alex pressed up against her, having Alex’s arms around her waist. Maggie is sober, but Alex isn’t, and her gaze has been lingering the drunker she gets, but it’s fine. It’s not a big deal.

When they climb on her bike, though, it kind of feels like a big deal. Alex holds her so tightly, which is good, it’s good, because Maggie’s honestly a little worried about her falling off the bike, but it just puts their bodies so close together Maggie’s breath shakes.

Alex doesn’t say anything, the whole ride. She doesn’t say anything and her hands don’t wander, but they flex against Maggie like they want to.

When she pulls up to Alex’s apartment, Maggie parks instead of just idling in the street, and she knows she’s already a lost cause.

“Come up for a nightcap?” Alex asks. She giggles at the word nightcap.

“I’ll come up for water,” Maggie says. “And to make sure you don’t fall down the stairs and kill yourself.”

“Yeah,” Alex says, and she links her arm through Maggie’s. “I probably need your help.”

Maggie’s pretty sure it’s supposed to be a line, but Alex is drunk enough that she _does_ need Maggie’s help, not as much with the stairs as with unlocking doors, but still. Maggie wonders if it was a good idea to let her do this.

Maggie makes her drink a glass of water in the kitchen.

“Sparks, Sawyer,” Alex says.

“What?” Maggie says and herds her to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

“Sparks.”

Alex tries to tell her more through a mouthful of toothpaste, but eventually gives up until she spits.

“That’s what I’ve been missing,” she says. “Sparks.”

“Sparks?”

“Yeah,” Alex says, dreamily. “Like that light you up inside. Like fireworks when you close your eyes.”

“Time for sleep, Danvers,” Maggie says. “You can dream about sparks, okay?”

Maggie should probably just go. But instead she walks behind Alex down the hallway. She just wants to make sure she gets to bed; she’s already here anyway, she might as well finish the job of taking care of her friend.

“I haven’t felt it since—” Alex turns around in the doorway of her bedroom, fixes her eyes on Maggie’s. “Look like, I know we don’t talk about it, but we kissed, yeah? Like. That’s a thing that happened.”

Maggie swallows. “Yes, Alex, that is a thing that happened.”

“Right. Like. It happened, and it was— God, Maggie, it was so good. And just. That was _sparks_ , you know? And I haven’t— I have some _good_ kisses since then, don’t get me wrong. I mean, I am a good kisser, okay? But it’s never been like that. Not since then.”

Maggie doesn’t know if she wants to flee or kiss her. Or— she knows. She knows exactly what she wants to do. But Alex is _drunk_ , and she can’t.

“I just—” Alex shakes her head. “Was it just because it was the first time? Is it supposed to always feel like that?”

“Alex, babe, get in the bed.”

Alex giggles.

“No,” Maggie says. “You just need some sleep, okay?”

Alex rolls her eyes. “I need to kiss you.”

Maggie feels like Alex is using a bolt cutter on her ribs, popping them open to get at her heart.

“Danvers, come on, you’re drunk. I don’t kiss drunk chicks.”

It’s not exactly true. Her rule is that she doesn’t do anything _more_ than kiss if someone is drunk without prior consent. But in this case— no.

“C’mon,” Alex whines. “Just so I can know— so I can remember what it’s like. So I know what it is, what I should be looking for.”

Maggie wants to kiss her more than anything. But Alex is drunk. Alex hasn’t made a single effort to kiss her while sober, not in almost a year. They flirt sometimes, sure, but Alex flirts without realizing it, Maggie knows she does— she does it to everyone from baristas to Vasquez. Alex doesn’t want Maggie. She’s nostalgic, remembers their kiss with rose-colored glasses, and Maggie gets that, Maggie knows she probably remembers it that way, too. It was just a kiss, one little kiss. And maybe Maggie has been thinking about Alex like that in the meantime, but Alex hasn’t thought of her like that. Alex has dated and had her heart broken and started dating again. Alex has hung out with her and never once hit on her, nothing like that, not until tonight, when she got drunk. Maggie’s not willing to kiss her when she knows it’s not something Alex actually wants to do.

“Danvers. Get in the bed.”

Alex does.

Maggie sits on the bed, close but not too close. “I’m not going to kiss you.”

Alex pulls the blankets up around her. She’s sitting up, too, back against her headboard. Maggie puts a hand on her leg over the covers.

“Get some sleep.”

And then Alex leans into her, presses their foreheads together.

“Please,” Alex whispers.

It would be so easy. She is so close. Maggie would just have to push her chin out, move her mouth forward just the slightest bit, that’s all. But she _can’t_.

“Don’t do this,” Maggie pleads.

Alex falls back into the bed.

“If I still want to kiss you when I’m sober, can we do it then?”

“Sure, Danvers,” Maggie says, and she’s surprised her voice doesn’t shake. “Whatever you want.”

“G’night, Maggie.”

Maggie doesn’t know how she gets out of Alex’s apartment. She doesn’t know how she gets home. She makes it to her couch, bites at the air trying to breathe. She feels like her lungs are covered in paper cuts, every breath is salt in the wounds.

She thinks about Alex’s mouth, so close to hers. She thinks about the last time she felt fireworks— it isn’t next to a pool table in a bar full of aliens, actually; it’s two weeks ago, making a terrible joke about their suspect and Alex laughing so loudly she snorted. She thinks about how Alex only wants her when she’s drunk.

Maggie curls up in bed with the covers tucked tight around her. It takes a really long time for her to fall asleep.

-

When she wakes up, there’s a text from Alex.

She can’t open it before coffee.

_Supergirl brought me more hangover food than I can eat_ , the text says. _Want breakfast? To thank you for getting me home, which I assume you did because there’s no other way I could’ve ended up in my own bed last night_.

She doesn’t even remember.

It’s good. It’s better, really. Alex won’t be embarrassed, won’t apologize, and Maggie can pretend it didn’t happen. Because it didn’t, nothing happened, and it didn’t matter. If Alex only wanted to do it because she was drunk, then she didn’t want to do it, so it doesn’t matter.

_Sure_ , Maggie texts back. _Be there in twenty_.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

Alex is draped across the couch when Maggie knocks.

“It's open,” she groans.

Maggie opens it, doesn't come in farther than the entryway.

“Never let me do that again,” Alex says. Her stomach roils, and her head is killing her.

“You're a grownup, Danvers, you can make your own decisions.”

Maggie is still standing just inside the door.

“What are you doing over there?” Alex says, forcing herself to sit up. “Come here and help me eat all of this.”

Kara brought her food from seven different places, and it’s delicious, and has calmed her stomach, just a bit, but there’s no way she can finish it.

Maggie shuffles over, sits on the opposite side of the couch.

“There’s breakfast burritos in that bag,” Alex says, pointing. “Hash browns, too. Donuts are there, waffles there. Spring rolls. Movie theatre popcorn. God, I don’t even remember what all she brought me. Seriously, have anything you want.”

“Supergirl brings you hangover food?” Maggie asks.

Alex shrugs. “Her superhearing apparently picked up my groaning,” she says. “And probably my vomiting earlier, honestly.”

“Can we not talk about vomiting right before I’m about to eat?” Maggie opens the box of donuts.

“I’m better now,” Alex says. “Got Gatorade, too.” She twists off the cap and takes a slug.

“Great.”

Maggie sits silently as she eats a cinnamon twist donut. Alex tries not to sigh. She probably did something stupid last night. She remembers bits and pieces— remembers telling Maggie she felt like she was missing something. She thinks she remembers the ride home, has this vague understanding of what it felt like to be pressed against Maggie’s body, but she’s not quite sure. She doesn’t remember how she got to bed. She woke up in her clothes from last night, so at least she knows she didn’t strip in front of Maggie or anything.

“Hey, Sawyer,” Alex says, and Maggie actually jumps like she’s surprised by Alex’s voice. “I’m sorry for anything I did last night. I’m sure I was a complete idiot.”

Maggie coughs. She opens a bottle of milk Kara had brought with the donuts, takes a couple sips.

“You’re fine, Danvers,” she says. “Don’t worry, I’ve already forgotten it, too.”

Alex groans. “Oh God, that makes it sound like I was _awful_.”

“Nah,” Maggie shakes her head. “You talked a lot about science.”

Well, that sounds like her at least.

“You know what else this idiot did while drunk?” Alex asks.

Maggie stiffens, doesn't look at her. Alex thinks she must have done something really embarrassing to make Maggie act like this.

“What?” Maggie says, and doesn't even sound interested.

“Texted _Jen_.”

Maggie blinks. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all you've got, Sawyer? Surely you can go better than that.”

“Did she text back?”

“Not yet,” Alex says. She reaches for the box of spring rolls. “I didn't remember, anyway. Only know I did it because I saw the sent text. Surprisingly few typos, actually.”

“Congratulations,” Maggie says.

She's been monotone this whole time. It makes Alex really sure something happened when she was drunk. But if Maggie doesn't want to tell her, she isn't masochistic enough to press.

“Whatever,” Alex says. “You want a spring roll?”

-

Maggie stays til the early afternoon, loosens up eventually. She teases Alex about her hangover and tells increasingly ridiculous stories of what Alex did while drunk, none of which Alex believes she actually did— like climbing onto the bar and starting a strip tease before Maggie could stop her.

“Like hell, Sawyer,” Alex says, throws a handful of popcorn at her.

Maggie catches some of it in her mouth. Alex rolls her eyes.

Alex’s phone buzzes on the table. She hopes it’s Kara checking on her, rather than the DEO needing her for something.

It’s neither.

“Oh my God, it’s from Jen,” Alex says.

 _Looks like you had fun last night_ , the text says. _How have you been?_

“That’s my cue,” Maggie says, standing and reaching for her coat.

“What? No! You have to help me write back!”

Maggie chuffs out a laugh. “I absolutely do not need to do that, Danvers. Maybe Supergirl can help, but I’m out of here.”

“Ugh, fine,” Alex says. “Drive safely.”

“Bye.”

Alex supposes Maggie isn’t the type to geek out over texts from a girl. Maybe that’s more a fresh off the boat thing to do. Even if she’s not exactly fresh off the boat anymore. Maybe if she had done this sort of thing as a teenager she wouldn’t want to now. As it is, she considers texting Kara to flail about it, but ends up responding to Jen on her own.

 _Good_ , is what Alex writes back. _Hangover aside. How about you?_

It’s a good text, she thinks, even without Maggie or Kara’s help.

Jen must think so, too, because she responds immediately. Alex feels that little flare under her sternum she always gets when talking to a girl.

Jen suggests getting coffee tomorrow to catch up and the flare gets stronger.

They pick a time and place, and then Alex calls Kara.

“Alex!” Kara picks up. “How are you feeling?”

Her sister is way too nice to her.

“Stuffed with all the food you brought me,” Alex says. “I’ve been eating all day and there’s still leftovers.”

“Well, sustenance is important when you’re hungover.” Kara sounds like she’s eating something herself, on the other side of the line. “Did Maggie fill in the blanks from last night for you?”

“Yeah, she told me I hopped on a table and did a strip tease,” Alex rolls her eyes. “No, she told me so much stuff I have no idea if any of it actually happened. She was kind of weird at first, so I probably did something stupid, but she didn’t say anything.”

“Oh,” Kara says, and she’s definitely chewing. Alex wonders how Eliza didn’t end up bankrupt trying to feed this girl as a teenager. “Is that weird? Like, are you worried about it?”

She is, a little. Because she knows she told Maggie she was missing something, and, sober, she knows the thing she’s missing in relationships is something Maggie still makes her feel sometimes, even though they’re just friends— sparks lighting her up inside. Alex is a little afraid her drunk self might have mentioned that to Maggie, but she’s not going to tell Kara any of that, so she deflects.

“Not as worried as I am about what I should wear to coffee with Jen tomorrow.”

“What?!”

Alex grins, chews on her bottom lip. “I told you how I drunk texted her? She, uh, texted back.”

“Alex! That’s crazy,” Kara says. “Are you guys getting back together?”

“Oh my God, I don’t know, Kara. It’s just coffee. I haven’t talked to her in forever.”

“Yeah, like since you broke up.”

“Yeah.”

That was a pretty shitty Valentine’s Day, ended much the same as last night probably did, actually— with Maggie bringing Alex home because she couldn’t get there herself.

“Do you want to get back together with her?” Kara asks.

“I don’t know,” Alex plucks at the fringes on the edge of her blanket. “I’m really excited for coffee with her?”

“What does Maggie think of it?”

“She left before we planned it,” Alex says. “But I mean, what would she care?”

“Right,” Kara says. “Okay, I’m coming over and we’re doing a fashion show to pick out your outfit.”

“Kara, no, I—”

But Kara’s already flying through her window, so Alex guesses she’s doing a fashion show.

-

Alex isn’t sure how you’re supposed to greet an ex but Jen beams as soon as she lays eyes on her.

“Alex!” she says and throws her arms around her. “You look fantastic.”

Alex will be sure to tell Kara her choice of Alex’s outfit was a good one. “You, too.”

Jen does look good, really good. Her smile makes Alex’s stomach do a somersault. As they order their coffees, Alex remembers exactly how she kisses, and can feel her cheeks tinge red because of it.

“So how have you been?” Jen asks when they’re seated in a booth, coffee in front of them.

“Good,” Alex says. “Really good. What about you?”

“Great,” Jen says. “I finished school in May.”

“Hey, congrats.”

“Thanks!”

The conversation is so easy, and nice, and Alex missed her, she really did. Jen is pretty and smart and she makes Alex laugh, just like she used to.

“How’s work?” Jen asks with a small smile.

Alex wrinkles her face. It’s a weird thing to talk about, basically the reason they broke up. “Good,” Alex says. “Still really important to me.”

“That’s great, Alex,” Jen says, and sounds like she means it. “Seriously,” she says, reaching across the table and squeezing Alex’s hand quickly. “I’m sorry I was such an ass about it before. It’s really great that you care so much about your work.”

Alex smiles into her coffee cup.

“And, um,” Jen ducks her head, then rolls her eyes at herself. “Are you still working with Maggie?”

Alex chuckles. “Yeah,” she says. “Still am.”

Jen smiles, conspiratorially. “And nothing ever…”

“Nothing ever,” Alex says, shaking her head. “We’re just friends.”

It’s true, even if Alex still kind of wishes it weren’t. She had thought, way back when, that Maggie was right— she cried for a while at first, sure, but when she thought about it, it made sense. Everything was shiny and new and the shine was probably going to fade off. It never seemed to, though. Maggie still lights up the room whenever Alex sees her. Which is fine. She’s her friend, and Alex likes to see her; that’s all it has to be.

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing,” Jen says, and blushes, and Alex stops thinking about Maggie.

Jen hugs her goodbye, says they should do it again, maybe dinner next time. Alex agrees.

-

“So you’re getting back together, then,” Kara says when Alex tells her how coffee went.

“I don’t know, Kara,” Alex says. “I’m just...it was just really nice.”

“Really nice and next time you’re going to do dinner. Definitely sounds like you’re getting back together.” Kara points her ice cream spoon at Alex for emphasis.

“I mean,” Alex shrugs, “would that be the worst thing in the world?”

“Of course not, Alex,” Kara says. She puts a hand on her shoulder. “If that’s what you want.”

It could be, Alex thinks. She hasn’t really been dating lately. And it’s not like she doesn’t like hanging out with Maggie a lot, but she’d like something more, maybe. She misses the things that come from being in a relationship.

“If that’s what you want, I totally support it,” Kara says. “But she did break up with you. And she made you sad. And so I kind of hate her for that.”

Alex chuckles and scooches closer to Kara on the couch. “That was almost a year ago,” she says. “I think it could be better.”

“Okay,” Kara says. “But if she makes you sad again I’m going to throw her into space.”

“Deal,” Alex says.

-

She and Jen spend a week texting, a little flirty, but mostly skirting the edge of anything more than friendship. When they do dinner, it's at this little Italian place they used to go to all the time. Alex feels just like she did when they started dating, feels that swoop in her stomach. At the end of the night, Jen walks Alex to her bike. Jen makes the first move, kisses Alex slow and deep on the sidewalk. Alex feels like she’s flying.

“We don’t have to decide now,” Jen says when she pulls back. “But I think I might want to try again.”

“Yeah,” Alex says, even though Jen said they didn’t have to decide immediately. “Maybe I’m just dazed from that kiss but yeah. Yes, please.”

Jen laughs. “We’ll see how you feel tomorrow, when I haven’t just kissed you senseless.”

Alex grins what is probably a dopey grin. “Yeah,” she says. “Good idea.”

-

The next day, Alex is still grinning. It’s been a while since she’s kissed a girl, been longer since it’s been a girl she really likes.

_Drinks tonight?_

She texts while she’s still at a crime scene, doesn’t even feel guilty about it.

“We boring you, Danvers?” Maggie asks from the other side of the boxes of stolen alien tech between them.

“Yeah,” Alex says. “Think you could do a jig or something to be a bit more entertaining?”

Maggie actually dances, just for a few seconds, she kicks her feet around in a poor attempt at a jig before grinning and glancing around to see who noticed. Alex cracks up and Maggie beams at her.

“That was beautiful, Sawyer. I had no idea you could dance so well.”

“I am a woman of many talents, Danvers.”

Alex laughs, and doesn’t check her phone again until she’s back at the DEO. Jen has replied _definitely_ , with a little smiley face. Alex tries not to smile too big while she walks evidence to the lab.

-

She and Maggie don’t solve the case. They’ve got a plan, though, more interviews tomorrow and some ideas of where to dig for evidence.

“Wanna grab Moe’s?” Maggie asks as they finish up for the day.

Alex debates going home instead— she could change before meeting Jen, but she’s hungry, and Moe’s sounds great.

Over dinner, Maggie teases Alex about how much time she spends in the precinct lately.

“I’m gonna put in a request for you to get your own desk, Danvers,” Maggie says. “So you stop taking up all my space.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “If you didn’t want me around all the time you could always stop calling in the DEO. Of course then you wouldn’t be able to solve cases with your own measly resources.”

“Excuse me,” Maggie laughs. “I seem to remember that the DEO didn’t have _any_ contacts in the alien population before you met me?”

“We had Supergirl.”

“She’s not an informant; she’s an enforcer.”

Alex has to cede the point.

On the sidewalk in front of Moe’s after dinner— which Maggie paid for since Alex had gotten their last one— Maggie suggests hitting a bar for a beer or two.

“I can't, actually,” Alex says. “I'm getting drinks with Jen.”

“Oh,” Maggie says, frowning.

Alex’s bike is still at the DEO; she’s been riding in Maggie’s squad car since they caught the case. She looks up the street for a cab. “We’re, uh, we’re maybe getting back together?”

“Great.”

Maggie’s voice is flat. Alex rolls her eyes. She thought Maggie would want her to be happy. Jen will make her happy, she thinks. Maggie probably only thinks it won’t because Jen was the first girl Alex really dated.

“I should have already known what your opinion on this would be, Miss First Relationships Never Work.”

Maggie clenches her jaw.

“Am I wrong?” Alex asks, because she’s always been the type to poke at a bruise.

“Whatever,” Maggie says.

Alex refuses to let it go. She’s forgotten about hailing a cab.  “C’mon, Sawyer. Tell me what you really think. Think it's a bad idea because she's the first girl I ever dated? We know how you feel about first relationships.”

Maggie stares at her for a moment. Alex raises her eyebrows expectantly, goads Maggie until she responds.

“I’m not saying it won’t work because first relationships never work,” Maggie says. “I’m saying it already didn’t work. You already tried and it didn’t work and you were sad for _months_. You haven’t even talked about her in forever. Would you have reached out if you weren’t drunk? Did you want to sober? Or is this just a dumb thing you did while you were drunk that for some reason you’re still doing while sober?”

Alex doesn’t want to think about any of that, because she’s not sure there isn’t some truth to it. Instead she just puffs up with anger. “What the hell, Maggie?”

“You were _hammered_ , Alex. Maybe you don’t remember it all, but _I do_ ,” Maggie says with a shake of her head. “You did plenty you wouldn’t do sober.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Maggie sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. “Nothing,” she breathes. “I didn’t—”

“What do you mean, Sawyer?” Alex uses her agent voice, hands on her hips.

Maggie throws her hands up. “You wanted to kiss me, okay?”

Alex laughs instead of flinching. “What?”

“You wanted to kiss me,” Maggie says again. “You asked me to kiss you. And if you had done that via text so you had a memory of it, would you be trying to get with me instead of with Jen?”

“I— that’s—” Alex sputters. It’s just her fucking luck, is what it is. A year of pining over her friend, of trying not to let her notice, trying to get over her, and Alex has to go and ruin it all while she’s drunk. She knew by the way Maggie acted the day after that she had done something stupid that night, but Maggie got over it so quickly. Alex never thought it was anything big. “No,” she says. “I wouldn’t be trying to get with you.”

She swears to God Maggie’s face falls, just for a second, but she _can’t_ think about that, because she can’t push her feelings on Maggie like she did last time, can’t let herself believe, can’t let herself have hope just to be crushed again.

“Sorry I wanted to kiss you while I was drunk,” Alex says. “Sorry if that made you uncomfortable. It doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be with Jen.”

Maggie’s jaw drops. “In what world does that not mean you shouldn’t be with Jen?”

Alex knows dating someone while being into someone else is probably not the healthiest choice, but she doesn’t see how else she is supposed to be getting over Maggie. Being with Jen helped her forget about Maggie last time, why wouldn’t it do the same this time around?

Alex stays fired up, anger as a defense mechanism. It’s easier than having to deal with how much she wishes she was brave enough to ask Maggie to kiss her while sober.

“It’s not like me wanting to kiss you would even matter,” Alex says. “What— you’re trying to say you’re jealous? You don’t get to be jealous! You don’t even like me!”

“Excuse me?”

“You said you didn’t want to be with me,” Alex reminds her. “You don’t get to get pissed that I want to be with someone else. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I never said I didn’t want to be with you.”

“You said—”

“I said relationships with someone who just came out never work,” Maggie says. “And they _don’t_. You and Jen already tried it and it didn’t work.”

Kara already said that, said it a little nicer, sure, but said basically the same thing. She and Jen didn’t work, and Alex was sad, but that doesn’t mean it will be the same now.

“Well, maybe it will work this time,” Alex says. “You don’t get to tell me not to be with her when you already turned me down.”

“I didn’t turn you down.”

“You _did_!” Alex doesn’t mean to yell, but that’s what happens. She doesn’t know what’s going on.

“I didn’t want to be the porcupine!” Maggie shouts, and Alex is well and truly lost.

That makes so little sense she doesn’t even know how to ask for clarification. She flounders at Maggie, who runs a hand through her hair and lets out a little laugh.

“I—” Maggie sighs. She looks at Alex, takes a breath, and says, “I had this dog, when I was a kid. Hooch. I got him when he was a puppy. And he was really enthusiastic because the world was so new. He didn’t know that there was stuff that could hurt him. And one day he got a bunch of porcupine quills stuck in his face.”

Alex grimaces.

“When you kissed me,” —Alex grimaces again— “you had just come out. You were so new to all of this, and you didn’t know about stuff that could hurt you, just like Hooch. You figured it out, you know, with Jen. That was shit, I know it was shit, but we’ve all gone through it. And you had to go through it, too. I didn’t want to be the one to put you through it. You were Hooch, and I didn’t want to be the porcupine.”

Alex stares at her. She has no idea what the hell that means.

“You’re saying I’m a dog?”

Maggie laughs, loud and sharp. “Oh my God, Alex, no.” She presses her knuckles into her forehead for a moment, then looks back at Alex. “I’m saying that being into you was never the question. At no time have I not been into you.”

“Wh—what?”

“First relationships never work,” Maggie says. “They never do. And I didn’t want that for us. If there was ever going to be an us, I didn’t want it to be set up to fail.”

“You…” Alex is glad there is no one else on the sidewalk with them. There are cars passing on the street, but no one who can eavesdrop, who can see how lost she is in this conversation. “You want there to be an us?”

Maggie sighs. “Yes, Danvers. That’s why I’m jealous. I know it’s not fair and if you want to be with someone else that’s fine, it is, just— just don’t say I’ve never been interested in you. Because that’s not true.”

Alex swallows. She’s not sure her brain is working at full speed. Maggie wants… God, Alex has wanted Maggie since before she knew Maggie was someone she could want. She doesn’t know how to process this.

She focuses on what she did when drunk, because it’s easier. “I asked you to kiss me?”

“You said you were missing sparks,” Maggie says, and Alex remembers that, that happened in the bar, she remembers. “And you said you felt them when we kissed.”

That’s the part she doesn’t remember. It’s true, it’s absolutely true— she felt sparks when she kissed Maggie, hell, she felt sparks today when Maggie danced a fucking jig for her at a crime scene— she just doesn’t remember telling Maggie.

Alex’s phone buzzes in her pocket. It’s Jen, she’s sure, because they’re supposed to meet. She’s supposed to go meet Jen for drinks and to talk about getting back together, and Maggie is in front of her on the sidewalk, her eyes as soft as they always are. Alex panics.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she says. She can’t look at the way Maggie’s face falls, but it _does_ , she’s sure of it this time, and her chest feels tight. “I have to go,” she says again, and thank fucking God there is a cab then. She hails it, and flees.

-

Jen can tell something is wrong almost immediately.

“Are you okay?”

“Um,” Alex says. She feels bad for being so in her head, but she can’t help it. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

Jen levels her with a look; apparently Alex didn't pull off fine.

“Yeah, I just—” Alex starts. “Something in my life sort of— it’s not what I thought it was? It’s like, the opposite of what I thought it was. And I only just found out about it, so I’m a little— I feel like I’m in shock a little.”

She laughs, tries to play it off, but Jen looks worried.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Alex _does_ , desperately. She wants to explain the situation and flip out a little. She needs to talk through it, to figure out what the hell is going on and how she feels about it and what it all means. And she can’t do any of that with Jen.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Alex says. “How are you?”

Alex tries, she does. She tries to listen and focus and engage with Jen. But Maggie’s face fell when Alex said she had to go.

God, what the hell is she doing? Maggie _likes_ her, and she’s sitting at a bar with another girl.

When there's a lull in the conversation, Alex says, “Jen, I—” She swallows. Jen sighs. “Jen, I know we’ve been talking about getting back together for real, but I really don’t think it’s going to work out. You’re great, and I like you, and I’ve really liked hanging out with you again, but… I think there’s someone else.”

Jen smiles like she knew this was going to happen. “That’s okay, Alex. It’s been great catching up with you, too. I hope we can stay friends.”

“You’re okay with this?”

Jen shrugs, laughing. “It sucks for me,” she says, “but I’d be surprised if there weren’t someone else, to be honest. You’re fantastic, and if Maggie’s finally realized that, then good for both of you.”

Alex blinks. “Maggie?”  

“I mean, I’m just assuming,” Jen says. “But whoever it is— you deserve it.”

“I think I have to go.”

“I think you probably do.”

Jen gives her a hug goodbye, waves her off when she tries to put bills on the bar. Alex doesn’t know why she’s being so nice about this. Alex isn’t even sure how she feels about this whole thing, and yet Jen seems to understand it all and approve?

Alex could call Kara, could talk it out, but instead she just walks. She leaves the bar and she walks and walks and walks. She wishes she was back in Midvale, could see the stars. She feels better when she can trace constellations in the sky. It helps her think.

Tonight she thinks on her own, nothing but streetlights to look up at.

Alex thinks about the past year, trying not to look at Maggie as anything more than a friend. She thinks about all the times she wanted to kiss her, but told herself she didn’t. She _couldn’t_ , so she told herself she didn’t. She wanted to kiss her hello, wanted to kiss her good night at the end of the day. But she always just smiled, and told herself Maggie was her _friend_. And now Maggie says things like _at no time have I not been into you_. Alex thinks about the _past year_ , thinks of all the times she wanted to kiss her, can’t believe maybe Maggie wanted it, too.

She doesn’t realize she’s walking toward Maggie’s building until she’s in front of it.

She’s wanted Maggie for a year, and Maggie wanted her, too, the whole time? It still doesn’t make sense to her, it still doesn’t sound real, but her hope latches its teeth into the idea and won’t let go. Maybe she wanted her, too.

She walks up and down the block three times. Hope overtakes disbelief. She can't not try. If this is real, if Maggie actually wants to be with her, if there's even a chance that she does, Alex has to try. Maggie is one of her favorite people, maybe her favorite person, besides Kara. And Alex loves having her as a friend, but she wants more, she does, and she has to try.

Alex catches the door as someone leaves Maggie’s building. She skips the elevator and climbs three floors to get to Maggie’s apartment. Then she takes a breath, and knocks before she can think better of it.

She doesn't even know if Maggie is here. Maggie could be at a bar, could be picking up some other girl. She could be _inside_ with another girl. Alex’s brain spirals for less than thirty seconds before Maggie opens the door.

Shit, she's beautiful. She's changed to sweats and a t-shirt, and if this were a year ago, Alex would probably just kiss her. She's not brave enough now, not brave enough to make that move. Maybe it’s because she’s learned better, learned how to protect herself, but she’s not sure she has, actually, because kiss or no kiss, if Maggie says no here, Alex can’t imagine it’s going to hurt any less than it did that first time.

“Hey,” Alex says.

“Hi.”

Alex doesn’t duck her head, doesn’t scuff her shoes against the floor. She looks right at Maggie when she talks.

“I told Jen it wasn’t going to work out,” she says.

Maggie lets out a breath. “Why?”

“It would’ve ended for the same reason it ended the first time.”

Maggie smirks like this isn’t the hardest conversation Alex has had since _we’re both in really different places._ “You were going to avoid her on Valentine’s Day?”

Alex doesn’t take the bait, doesn’t chuckle or roll her eyes. “I was going to be preoccupied with you.”

The smirk falls off of Maggie’s face. She rubs a hand at the back of her neck. “Why?” she says, and her voice is so small.

“Well.” Alex remembers Maggie’s words to her, smiles a little. “At no time have I not been into you.”

Maggie looks at Alex, not quite through her lashes, but almost, and she’s biting her bottom lip like she’s trying to hold back her smile. “Yeah?”

Alex nods. Maggie chews at her bottom lip.

“You know,” Maggie says, “when you were drunk I made a deal with you.”

Alex tries not to grimace. “Did you?”

“You wanted to know if you still wanted to kiss me while you were sober if we could,” Maggie says.

Alex blushes.

Maggie smirks again, but she doesn’t sound quite so confident when she speaks. “I— uh, I said we could. If you still wanted to.”

Alex’s heart soars. “Yeah!” she says and then blushes further. “I mean, yeah. I still want to.”

Maggie laughs at her, gentle and sweet, and she steps forward, steps into Alex’s space. Alex feels warm all over.

“Right here?” she says. “In the hallway?”

“Would you rather we take the time to go somewhere else?” Maggie asks.

“Here’s good.”

Maggie smiles up at her, all dimples and teeth. When she leans up on her tiptoes, slides a hand to Alex’s face and kisses her, it’s like Alex has been plugged into an electric socket. She feels like fireworks, feels like a lit up Christmas tree, feels like the sun.

Alex thinks of how often she’s wanted to kiss Maggie over the past year, thinks they better make up for lost time.

When Maggie eventually pulls back, Alex grins.

“Sparks,” she says. “Definitely sparks.”

Maggie laughs and kisses her again.

 

 


End file.
